The Light of Hidden Flowers
by UsernameUnderConstruction
Summary: Living in a world of shadows Mello found life void of hope and beauty, but upon meting the kidnapped Matt being sold at an auction Mello vows to save the boy by buying him as his own. As he fears for the innocent soul of Matt to be crushed and tainted by his criminal lifestyle, he watches the world around him crumble and keep Matt as his last hope. Rated for dark and sexual themes
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 -The Light of Hidden Flowers**

**A/N: This chapters is basically just establishing the story and so on, so in that sense it's kind of a prologue but in my idle mind that translates to 'do not have to read' which I hope you do because well, nothing will make much sense without it.**

Mello had become very accustomed to darkness over the years, seeming to become almost immune to both its foreboding presence and the sadistic pleasure that surrounded it. It was only customary now, so much so every element of himself had to change in order to fit into the crowd he loathed. It was hard at first, it was still hard now but on the contrary it had started begrudgingly at an almost painful pace. But gradually, as time had progressed, Mello had changed. He would still like to call himself Mihael but it was just a simple memory now, never to be rediscovered or relived. Mello is now past, present and future.

Still, despite internal monologues of self-hatred it was easy to admit how well he had slipped into the crowd and become yet another dark driven shadow. It began with his leather, acting as his cloak for passers-by but it was still rather worn causing the illusion of perfection to decompose into a masterpiece of gradual deterioration. Analytical thoughts could also attempt to depict his insides but it was simply too much of a task as it was all but a tangle of thoughts of rejection and pain, memories of fire and anguish rotting down to his very literal self of bones and organs. In simple terms, Mello was a masterpiece of confusion, but unfortunately the piece was destined for darkness as it had no one to admire its haunting beauty.

But even in the world of monsters and shadows, there must be light for contrast. A spotlight to be exact.

.

On the stage was a man. There was nothing special of particularly noteworthy about the man except a foreboding stench of malicious intention that seemed to emit from his very soul. But that may just be down to the smirk on his face, that and the excited gleam in his eye that was only enhanced by the haunting glow of the spotlight.

"Now Gentlemen, I think it's safe to say we've definitely saved the best till last," He paused again with a knowing smile, "This next piece of merchandise is a little… _different_ from the rest but I'm sure it'll be to your tastes."

The atmosphere became dense with excitement, and on Mello's part, mild curiosity.

Mello knew such events were conventional in this line of work but the idea of human trafficking had never once stirred up desire inside of him. In fact even the stench of perverted pleasure around him was almost too much to bear. Still he endured as it was, in a two dimensional view, extremely beneficial for his work.

Silence was disturbed by business talk and the sipping of bitter drinks that ended abruptly by the entrance of a cowering figure that needed no more introductions

The first thing Mello saw was red, a colour he had grown far too accustomed to over the course of his young life. But it wasn't the memories of blood and agony that perplexed Mello. It was the idea of beauty that swam deep within the strands of copper hair.

The second thing he registered was anger at his own stupidity.

The third was, once again, bewilderment.

Beauty was extinct. It had and always will be. Yet here it sat, mere meters away, crying silently.

Mello couldn't see much of the figure but his very presence was unfamiliar causing curiosity to centre on his interests. The boy was hunched in an unnatural angle giving the impression it was to hide the tiny shred of dignity he had left rather than for comfort purposes. The boy's nakedness was evident but because of the awkward angle it left a surprisingly large amount still to be desired.

"This piece was a _very_ lucky find. He was only recently acquired so he lacks experience and discipline so he can be trained any way you wish."

The murmurs returned seeming more impatient as time slowly stretched on.

They were hungry.

The man paused with a sadistic smirk as he slowly bent down towards the boy.

"He possess many desirable qualities from his pure ivory skin to his lovely crimson locks, that-"

Mello subconsciously inhaled loudly, too overcome with an unknown twist in his gut to realise the breath never released.

The man grasped the boy's knees and parted them keenly. Only then did the boy make a sound, unfortunately for him the small moan of protest only fuelled the excitement of the crowd.

"-is of course completely natural."

Laughing abruptly filled the room, whether it was at the poorly placed joke or the increase of tears that slipped down the boy's cheeks Mello wasn't sure.

Mello felt angry, he felt murderous, he felt empty yet in the same time full of… how could he define the feeling rotting whatever was left of his heart? Was it pity? Was in sympathy? Empathy? Whatever it was he wanted it to leave and never to return. He wanted the boy to leave for making him feel things he didn't ask nor want to feel. But in reality he knew neither requests would be filled causing him to endure the unusual limbo of unnamed feelings, feeling powerless to do anything at all, except watch and wait.

"His frame is small and slight giving him a very boyish appearance despite him being older than his appearance implies," The man grasped the boy's chin and tilted it towards the spotlight causing the shelter of ruby hair to part and leave him completely and utterly exposed.

Every thought of beauty in Mello's mind was diminished into sheer nothingness.

Beauty was extinct. The thought of it was immoral and almost unholy as it held everything Mello no longer possessed. It was purity, it was innocence… it was hope. Yet there it was defying every self-created rule of living and enduring, being nothing but its perfect and holy self. But the beauty was out of place and wrong, but somehow that made it all the more appealing.

Mello's world was too clouded with darkness and nothing- absolutely _nothing_, should be as bright as the boy's eyes.

Green, they were, but in a metaphorical and three dimensional way, so much more. Just as unnatural as his hair but still so oddly fitting in a way that seemed was crafted specifically for him. But it was clear to see the clouded daze of drug indorsed submission through his eyes due to the slightly absent look and eyelids too prone too blinking.

"As you can see his face is just as youthful as the rest of him: well defined features, cute little nose with a slight dusting of freckles. As you can see he has beautiful eyes that share the same abnormal style of colouring as his hair. But of course the main attraction is the fact he is still a _virgin_."

The last word announced acted as a detonator in the crowd. All conversation had reached its progressing crescendo turning it into a montage of incoherent shouts. But Mello just sat, waiting for something he couldn't quite distinguish. But not once did his eyes leave the boy's.

"This piece is a guaranteed crowd pleaser and a very unique catch with many desirable qualities and adding on his virginity we'll start the bidding at twenty thousand."

"Thirty!"

The boy's face visually paled as the impending fact of his fate fell down upon him causing his shoulders to droop in mourning.

"Fifty!"

Fear coursed through his veins and took his body hostage.

"Seventy five!"

Then, as all hope was truly lost, the defiance set in, fuelling his body to thrash that was subdued drastically by the drugs.

"One million!"

Then the acceptance settled in, drinking up the tears only to replace them by a numbness he embraced.

"One and a half!"

And Mello just sat.

"Two!"

Watching.

"Three!"

Waiting.

"Do I hear anything above three?"

And then standing, shouting:

"Five million pounds!"

Then came the silence.

All heads pivoted slowly towards the voice. Towards Mello.

"Sold to the blonde!" The voice called out again concluding the auction, the contract and the boy's fate.

But Mello was oblivious to the stares, the mumbles and the fact he had lost five million pounds. All he could see was the red head and the clouded green orbs that opposed his stare before falling closed, descending into a world of unconsciousness.

**A/N: This story was actually inspired by a sonnet which is pretty surprising as I never really had a passion for poetry. The sonnet was written by Pablo Neruda and it's called 'Sonnet XVII' which google tells me is the number seventeen, there you go it has roman numerals which must mean it's fancy. I recommend reading it but I will be posting the odd quote here and there because it's kind of morbid in a way that probably only I see it in, oh well it did inspire a story about the sex trade so it can't be all that bad. Take that how you will.**

**This story will be uploaded soon and I've planned the entire thing out so you know it's just the… writing. **

**Thank you **_**so**_** much for reading and any feedback is thoroughly appreciated. Thanks a bunch!**


	2. Chapter 2 - The Complexities

**Chapter 2 – The Complexities **

**A/N: It's been over a week and for that I apologise but next update will be quicker because it's got all my favourite bits in so I'll write it with ease as this chapter was more stubborn but I like the way it turned out. And as the author I can announce that this story has officially begun for real now, no more short prologue thing!**

**Oh, and as sad as it is I don't own Death Note or its characters.**

He didn't remember his dreams nor did he remember going to sleep yet somehow, through the mist of uncertainty, he had awoken.

It felt a lot like sleep paralysis in a way except it was more insightful than that. It wasn't the kind of conscious paralysis you were subjected to after a great injury; it was more of an awake dream, the kind that lured you away from logical thinking and the capability to simply move. He felt like he was asleep yet fully conscious of it…did that make sense? He supposed it didn't have to.

And in the distance, as if from another side of a dream, he felt a presence of something looming expectantly. In fact because it was the only stable thought he could form in the foggy depths of his brain he began to focus solely on its presence till he could feel it moving, breathing, thinking…was he dead? No, surely death would be different. If it was heaven he would have thought it would be more climatic and rewarding but if this was hell then he assumed it would be more terrifying and thought provoking in a sense.

This wasn't death, he could feel his own life beating in his chest and raising his stomach methodically. He was alive, but that was the only thing he was certain of.

Suddenly the mood shifted, and it didn't go unnoticed by the presence either. It drifted and paused before it began to speak.

"You're awake," was all it said, almost like a declaration.

Matt supposed he should reply but once more he didn't feel the need to interrupt.

"You've been out for almost a day, the doctor said it wasn't anything to worry about but he did mention a few side effects but nothing too drastic." The voice was deep and had a comforting layer of awkwardness lining each word.

Matt processed the words by reflex, mulling them around his brain as if to savour their taste. Questions once again began to arrive mainly centring on the word 'doctor' and the abnormality the words possessed. His brain's mist almost seemed explainable now as if his brain was attempting to hide away the truth behind it, something it knew would favour Matt's sanity to not know. And at that thought, he spoke.

"Where am I?" Seemed to be the most plausible question, further peaking his impatience as he heard the weak whimpering notes of his voice.

"At the base, it was the only place I could take you," The voice answered somewhat hesitantly.

His eyes remained closed in fear that opening them would result in something darker than behind his eye lids. Only because he felt obliged by conventions he asked, "What happened?"

This time the voice didn't reply.

It all seemed too disturbingly calm as if this conversation should have taken place on a different scale.

The silence continued until the duration deemed Matt's question mute.

"What's your name?" It asked eventually.

This time Matt didn't deem the voice an answer.

"Where am I?" Matt croaked feeling fear continue to course through his system.

"You already asked that one. You're at the base." The voice replied.

"Why?" His voice cracked into a whimper as the sheer importance of this situation began to dawn on him.

"You don't remember?" It asked.

"No, where am I? What happened? Why am I here?" Matt stuttered, his questions falling over each other in dire need to escape and remove the mask of ignorance.

"What's the last thing you remember?" The voice calmed shifting the attention away from the unanswered questions by asking another.

"I don't remember." That was all he could say. It was stupid, that he knew, but it almost felt as if this was where he had first begun.

"You must remember something, _anything_?" The voice pleaded.

"I remember a light." Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was dead, "and I remember the smell. The sweet smell." The one he couldn't name but he knew. It was there, forming in the back of his throat, rising slowly.

"Where was that?" It encouraged.

"Somewhere dark, before the light, outside I think." As the words made their leave so did the mist, parting gradually. "Yes, it was at night and I was… walking and… someone was driving. There was a car." And then the mist returned panicking, so fast it blinded his curiosity with pain, a sensation that began at the stem and rooted directly to its core. But the words were forming faster and faster until he could taste them, he could taste their bitter and burning presence until it overwhelmed him and they immerged from his mouth in the form of bile, dribbling down his chin and staining whatever material was protecting him from the cold.

But they didn't taste nearly as bitter as the memories now clear in his mind.

"They t-took me away," Matt paused once more inhaling quickly as if to calm himself. Needing a pause from the muddle of dark memories in his head he distracted himself by opening his eyes and descending into the world of conscious sight.

He was in a bed, one that wasn't his own, and on the bed was a thin sheet of cotton that covered Matt's naked body, a pile of questionably coloured sick staining the majority of the left side and a man watching him take it all in.

The man wore black which only seemed to exaggerate the contrast of his creamy white skin and golden strands of his shoulder length hair. He was extremely handsome in a feminine and intimidating way, as if looking into the icy depths of the man's blue eyes could very well be the last thing you do. But the thing that unnerved him the most was the memory from last time he'd looked upon the same face.

"There was a car," Matt continued, further encouraged by the familiar curves of the man's face, "and then there was a smell, something sweet…" He could still smell it and feel it burning his throat. Everything came back, the fear, the feeling of unwanted hands as they pulled him backwards into... "There was a car and two men and they grabbed me while I was walking home. They drugged me but I could still hear them, they were talking, something about… a price."

_Price_.

He recalled a room, the smell of alcohol and… was it blood? Was it his? He remembered a light, a spotlight and another man- no lots of men and they were talking about _the price_. And he could hear the excited shouts and the fear, so much fear and restraint, and then another shout before a silence. And the colour blue.

"Y-you," Matt exclaimed, his previous fear feeling nothing but a shadow now, "you _brought_ me."

There was nowhere to run, to hide or to force himself back into unconsciousness, and even if there was he doubted he would make it in time. Maybe it was already too late.

Now he really was paralyzed but not the kind that surrounded him in a lullaby, a kind that crippled his movements and his thoughts until nothing remained but the memories.

Mello's face softened as he once more drank in the sight of horror that curdled the beauty within his emerald eyes. "No Matt it's not like that, I swear." He raised his hands in surrender, cautiously moving in to comfort the red head only to pull back when the fear only intensified.

"No, no, no, no," Matt chanted frantically, each word rising in pitch.

Matt's tears leaked freely now, no longer stilled by pride and he screamed over and over again, but he was still so oddly beautiful. Mello knew it was disgusting to notice such a thing giving the context of their non-existent relationship but then again Mello felt it would be just as disgusting _not_ to notice it. Every thought that formed in his head was a contradiction, fuelling his confusion so his weariness and eagerness joined in a stalemate till he too didn't move.

"Take me back!" Matt howled again, "take me back home. Take me back!"

"Calm down Matt it's not what it sounds like," In desperation Mello moved forward to comfort him once more but it was far too quick by Matt's standards as his screams intensified into an unhuman scale.

"No Matt really I swear it's not like that," He pleaded again feeling utterly useless. As softly as he could Mello grasped Matt lightly on the arm to pull him away from his panic attack, only then realising how stupid it was.

"Don't touch me! Let go of me!" Matt cried his voice still holding volume but lacking in strength as it gradually deteriorated into croaks were all that bounced of the raw layers of his throat.

"_What the fuck is going on here?_" A new voice shouted, much deeper than Mello's calming chants and Matt's high pitched screams causing both of them to stop.

The voice belonged to a man in the doorway, one that Matt hadn't got round to noticing yet. Matt wasn't sure if the man was as tall as he first appeared or if it was simply an illusion created by his current vulnerable condition. The man was shirtless in defiance to the cold and seemed to be adorned with a variation of tattoos that crawled up his body till they rested on his shoulders which a held the most sadistic smirk Matt had ever had the displeasure of gazing upon.

"Nothing," Matt vaguely heard Mello say in the backdrop of it all.

"Sounds like a hell of a lot of nothing," The man paused once more and turned his head towards Matt, "Why didn't you tell me it had woken up?" He shifted his gaze to Mello who was now standing with arms crossed.

Matt felt partly angered at the fact he was called an 'it' but quickly dismissed the thought as he looked at the situation in proportion.

However Mello seemed to be on Matt's wavelength, "_he _just woke up."

"That's not what it sounded like, seemed like you were having all the fun without me," the man smirk only seemed to grow causing Matt to swallow loudly.

"There was no _fun_ Rod, I was just calming him down," Mello objected attempting to meet Matt's eyes to feign his reactions but he saw that they were too stilled with fear.

"Well you seemed to be doing a pretty shit job of it and anyway I asked you to check on him not to calm him down. I don't know if you'd forgotten Mello but I'm still pissed off at the stunt you pulled at the auction and need I remind you how thin the ice is right now so I suggest you follow every fucking order that comes out my mouth," Rod taunted looking down at Mello as best he could.

"Don't threaten me; we both know this place will go to shit without me," Mello spat as he was toe to toe with Rod. They glared for a moment which Matt thought was surprisingly even despite the obvious size difference.

Rod tore his glare away from Mello's to Matt's with a deep chuckle, "how I do love your fire Mello. What about you my little million dollar baby? Are you as fiery as your hair?" He chuckle mutated into another infamous smirk.

Matt didn't move his eye's from Rod's too overcome with both fear and a loathing hate towards the man. The time that Matt watched the man watch him seemed to stretch on forever, only broke when Mello chose to break the deafening silence.

"Leave Rod, you're not making it any easier," He growled.

"All I want is my money's worth so when you're done wasting my fucking time and money bring him outside and we'll get started," Rod concluded as he took one final long glance at Matt's barley covered form and made his way to the door.

Matt, too overcome by curiosity felt the words rise once more in his throat, "I don't have any clothes," he called back slightly embarrassed of his choice of protest.

"Sweetheart where you're going, you don't need clothes," Rod called back with a cackle before the door slammed signalling his long awaited departure.

"Fucking wanker," Mello spat before softening his features and turning towards Matt, "Don't listen to him, no one's going to lay a hand on you."

Matt looked into Mello's eyes with nothing but numbness, "He seemed pretty sure."

"Like I said he's full of bull shit so don't you worry, no one's going to hurt you," He repeated before looking down and adding, "I'll protect you."

Matt didn't answer this time filling the room with nothing but the noise of Mello's footsteps.

Matt exhaled loudly and lay back down on the bed before wincing at the sickly stench.

"Here are your clothes," Mello called out causing Matt to jump upon the realisation that he wasn't alone. "They aren't much but it's all I've got." And with that he left leaving nothing but the pile of folded clothes in his wake.

.

The clothes were baggy yet tight in all the wrong places but given the fact they covered him up he seemed no need to protest. He knew the large man. Rod, had told him to go outside when he was finished but he had also ignored the rule about clothes so he had ambled around for a while before simply giving up and sitting on the floor. Although it dug painfully into his backside, it was the only place far enough away from the yellow stain on the bed to not relive the same event again. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before there was a knock at the door.

"Matt?" Mello asked from behind the door leaving Matt feeling both pleased and angry that he hadn't just walked in.

"What?" Matt answered pulling his knees closer towards his chest.

"Are you dressed?" Mello replied in an oddly calm voice.

"Yeah," Matt responded, absentmindedly stroking the worn denim with his fingers.

Needing no further questions Mello entered the room again searching for Matt until he saw him sitting on the floor. Mello slowly walked toward him trying to piece the right words together in his head before falling short and sitting down next to him.

The silence was dense but in a strange was oddly comfortable.

"Do I have to go out there?" Matt questioned not moving his eyes away from his knees.

"Unfortunately," Mello grimaced attempting to muster a single shed of Matt's pain. Despite the statement the silence remained rather peaceful. "Look I know I've given you no reason to but you can trust me. I promise you that I won't let anyone hurt you," Mello swore, his tone full of commitment.

"Why?" Matt questioned shifting his eyes towards Mello's.

"Why what?" was his reply.

"Why do you care? Why does it matter? Why would you do that? Like you said I have no reason to trust you," Matt pointed out oddly entranced by Mello's motives.

"I honestly don't know why I care but I do and I did back then. I guess I just don't want to see them, or anyone else for that matter, rip you apart, you do get sick of seeing such things after a while. But as for trusting me well you're right, you can't trust me but you have to because I'm the only chance you've got." Mello hadn't intended it to sound quite as harsh as it did but Matt's expression remained the same so he didn't fret on it too much.

"So what now?" Matt asked honestly curious.

"Now we go outside and I'll make sure we can strike a deal that Rod will agree to," Mello answered vaguely giving the impression there was no plan after all.

"I can't stand this anymore; the quicker we make this deal the quicker I get to go home, right?" Emerald eyes met aquamarine and the silence stretched on as they both swore the next answer silently.

"Of course," Mello answered despite them both knowing it wasn't true.

They waited in the silence for a moment longer before they stood up and made their way towards the door. Mello didn't turn to reassure Matt knowing it would be pointless, so instead he opened the door and left with Matt in tow, leaving the darkness and stench of the room behind.

.

Mello sat back almost amused at the sight. Here he was in a Mafia base with around fifteen world renounced murders and drug dealers who were all drinking and smoking watching the cutest little red head Mello had ever seen. In reality he knew it was all different kinds of terrifying but in his head, armed with only his sight, he couldn't help but internally grin at Matt and his slightness. He looked like a little country fox being surrounded by a pack of bloodthirsty city dogs with only his long eye lashes and ever present blush to protect him.

"Look, I don't really understand what there is to discuss, we brought him so he's ours," One voice called out, to twisted with drunkenness to be called out as a valuable opinion.

Mello watched as Matt's green eyes lit up with protest and search for him in the unfamiliar crowd.

All murmurs and hiccups paused the moment Rod leaned forward in his chair, "He cost a fuck load of money- not just normal money- _my_ money, so in fairness I think I get to decide and I want him naked, on his hands and knees with me cock deep inside of him."

Drunken cheers filled the room along with many wolf whistles causing Matt's gaze to plead with such intensity puddles of tears filled in their corners. The salty shine made his eyes almost glow, so bright that it penetrated Mello's skin and twisted his guts. Soon enough it became unbearable so Mello stood to shush the drunken lust filled shouts. He turned to meet Rod's eyes.

"No. First off, the money wouldn't have of existed if it wasn't for me so if anyone's deciding, it's me. Also the deal wasn't to buy someone that could be your own personal bitch it was to find someone who could make us money and that was proved at the auction. People will pay big money for a virgin but as soon as that's lost you'll get peanuts."

Rod looked up at Mello for a moment obviously translating his speech into a way to favour his argument, "Then what do you suggest?"

Mello sighed dramatically as he continued, "What I'm saying is, if its money you want there's an alternative that will pay back the debt and then some. All you have to do is not fuck him and watch the money come in."

Mello knew he had already convinced him, it wasn't hard to buy Rod to your side, all you needed was a convincing tone and a direct plan with the promise of big money. He would have smiled if the victory wasn't as bleak.

Matt caught Mello's eyes from his seat with an unreadable emotion that seemed to say: 'that could have gone worse.' So much so that Mello had to look away, knowing Matt's small victory would soon be overlooked.

Rod laughed, "You know what if the kid gets me my money and doesn't fuck me around, I'm in."

Matt thought his previous fear caused the conclusion to the discussion to be rather anti climatic. He attempted to look at Mello but he was obviously avoiding his gaze so instead he just spoke, rather bewildered, to the crowd as a whole, "So all I have to do is get the money and then I'm free to go home?"

The boss' cackle filled the room once more, "Sweetheart, if you get me my money I'll shit enough bricks to build you a new home." The man's grin was only raised as he saw a grimace cover Matt's boyish face.

"Okay, so how much money do I need to get?" Matt asked sizing up the situation in his head feeling like he was missing too much of an important factor to make sense of it all.

"Five million pounds," Rod answered before raising his beer to his lips and taking a victory sip. Things were starting to get interesting.

**Current debt: £5,000,000**

**A/N: You have no idea how tempted I was to end it on "Sweetheart where you're going, you don't need clothes" because I loved how badass it sounded until I realised it was just a morbid twist on a 'Back to the Future' quote and I thought I might as well extend this chapter for leaving you waiting. Next update will be soon and that's where the actual stuff will start to go down. I know you're wondering why your two chapters in and wondering why I keep saying it's not started yet but the plot is here and that's what matters, right?**

**Thank you **_**so**_** much for reading and I'd love to hear your feedback for the chapter. Until next time.**


	3. Chapter 3 - Enforced Evolution

**Chapter 3 – Enforced Evolution **

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**A/N:** **I'm late really I'm sorry. BUT I come bearing gifts of around 4,000 words. This chapter was stubborn as hell as I tried to include loads of elements but it was harder than I thought. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint after the almost two week wait. **

**Thank you to every one reading this and for all the follows and favourites, you have no idea how much you make me smile. Okay cheesy moment over, onwards and upwards!**

* * *

The room was filled with a deafening coldness that sank deep within Matt's skin and chilled his blood stream until it met his heart. It wasn't the coldness he felt within though, actually it contrasted the feelings with a flame, simply burning through his remorse and self-pity and lit up former emotions that were dulled and controlled by the fear. The flame was small but it engorged itself on his memories ready to mutate into a burning inferno. He could feel it inside, a freezing flame.

Mello had taken him to another room and the previous smell of sick and sweat had been replaced by an unfamiliar smell of damp and a slight under layer of chocolate. This room held a shred of life to it due to the few personal belongings littering the floor but also held a thought of emptiness as the belongings seemed far too purposeful to hold any form of sentimental meaning.

An unmeasurable amount of time had passed before he spoke, his tone echoing with emptiness, "Now what?"

Matt could hear Mello's shuffles at his words, his feet pacing slightly in front of Matt's sunken posture on the bed, "What do you mean?"

"What's going to happen to me?" Matt rephrased with a haunting monotone.

Mello paused seemingly to buy a few extra seconds of thinking time. "Well… I guess you'll stay here… and just follow the plan," Mello stuttered as he ran a hand through his golden hair to symbolise his awkwardness.

He could feel it inside, the freezing flame. But it was morphing into an anger that leaked into his words, "So what's the big plan?" His words were louder and tighter than necessary and he raised his head towards Mello, meeting his eyes without a feared hope simply fuelled with a dying inner fury.

Mello met his gaze with surprise and slight bewilderment. "Well there is no big plan it's just-" He began but Matt cut him off bitterly.

"So what, I'm just supposed to go along for your entertainment until-" He raged but was cut off by Mello's own fire.

"_My entertainment_?" Mello questioned matching Matt's loud and frustrated pitch.

"I meant you as in a collective sense, of you and your…. I don't know _crew_ or whatever- That's not the problem though, what exactly do you expect me to do?" Matt straightened his posture, to overcome with anger to word his feelings accordingly, choosing to raise his voice to show his true rage.

Mello let out an exaggerated sigh, "Trust me I-"

"No I can't you. I don't even know you," Matt cut off. His fury fuelled brain shut off all thoughts associating himself with a tantruming toddler.

Mello paused his frustrated paces and faced Matt with a pitying and slightly apologetic look in his eyes. "I know that but if you-

"No you don't know. You don't know a single thing. You just want me to think you're this nice guy but you're not, you're just like the rest of them." Matt exhaled deeply both enjoying and loathing the way Mello's apologetic eyes curdled with darkness.

"So what if I am. What exactly are you going to do about it?" Mello spoke no longer needing to raise his voice to get his point across.

Matt scowled at the words, his subconscious revelling in the face of a challenge, "Don't threaten me."

"I'm not threatening you," Mello shouted with a bewildered exasperated tone.

"Stop shouting!" Matt screamed back.

"I'm shouting because you're shouting," Mello levelled.

"I'm allowed to shout!" Matt snapped leaving his seat on the bed, glaring up at Mello.

Mello nearly barked out a sarcastic laugh but stopped himself repeating that Matt was _allowed_ to be angry, but the fact no one ever argued or spoke against Mello made it very hard. "And I'm not?" He almost smirked as he towered above Matt.

The reaction of the closeness was instant. Matt sank back down on the bed refusing to meet Mello's dark glare. "Just go," he whispered in a barely audible pitch that would have gone amiss if it weren't for the silence.

Mello inwardly cursed himself as he calmed his voice and relaxed his shoulders. "Look I get that-"

"Go!" Matt ordered turning away from Mello all together, not wanting to meet his piercing ice blue eyes again.

"Matt-" Mello began bending toward Matt at a less intimidating height.

"I don't want to hear it. Just go," Matt breathed all anger leaving his tone only to be replaced with a certain hostility.

"I can't," Mello simply worded, sitting more durably on the floor.

Matt's head rose, "What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't just leave you," Mello explained, his voice melodic and entrancing.

Matt listened to the words but hardened his eyes once more, "Why not? You fucking _brought_ me."

Mello wished he could level Matt's glare but the guilt was too overwhelming causing his eyes to fall to the floor.

"Can't you just forget about that for one second?" Mello pleaded wanting nothing more than the shame of it all to wash away.

Mello couldn't say he was surprised by Matt's cutting sarcasm, "Forget it? Sure, let's just forget the fact that I was kidnapped, drugged, stripped and sold as a _fucking sex slave!_" The words hung in the air, the bitter taste following them around as they bounced off the walls.

Mello gazed at the floor once more, "Why can't you see that I'm trying to help you?"

"_Help me? Help me?_ You think this is helping me," Matt spat looking down at Mello with disbelief in his eyes. He shook it off, no longer feeling glad of his new found rebellion. His voice turned weak once more, "If you want to help me, take me home."

"I can't," was his reply, the truth of their situation surrounding them with hopelessness once more. What shocked Matt the most was how unsurprised he was to hear the words.

"How the hell am I supposed to do this?" Matt questioned but his tone was light and shallow giving the impression he didn't expect or want an answer.

"Look Matt, I know that you probably hate me and honestly I've given you every reason to but you can't do this alone. You've seen them, they're animals," _And I don't want to see them rip you apart_, he added silently in his head.

"The worlds filled with animals," Matt stated his eyes meeting Mello's but they looked through him if anything.

"And now you're in their habitat," Mello added.

"So what, am I supposed to just _adapt_?" Matt questioned with a small humorous cover over the words.

"Yeah, that's exactly it," Mello smiled almost.

"I was joking," Matt countered.

"I know but it's a great way of picturing it. They look at you like an object, as a source of release, so just… play with the hand you were dealt."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Matt asked staring at Mello as if he had truly lost it.

"You can use what you've got to your advantage," Mello explained nodding to himself.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" Matt levelled.

"You're beautiful, full of innocence, that's something people have and will kill for. You can use that to your advantage, act as the innocent and then kick them where it hurts," Mello smiled kneeling towards Matt in a fit of confidence.

"No one's ever called me beautiful before," Matt admitted. It seemed both perfect and anticlimactic in Matt's eyes. He smiled in his own amusement feeling it grow as he noted Mello's flushed cheeks. For Mello's sake Matt drew them away from the topic, "_Kick them where it hurts?_ So your plan is to kick the perverts in the crotch because honestly, I don't see that going very far."

Mello smiled at Matt, "I don't mean it literally. Look I have a plan but you are going to hate it. Still right now it's the best plan and well a kind of compromise in a sense," Mello explained vaguely taking one more deep look into Matt's beautiful emeralds.

"What is it?" Matt asked his tone filled with dread and curiosity.

"Don't worry," Mello spoke as he placed his hands on Matt's knees, "You trust me, don't you?"

And despite the fire, despite the strange context of everything that was now Matt's life he found himself nodding, a ghost of a smile settling on his lips.

.

The car ride was quiet and more than a little awkward but it had led them here, outside of 'Baby Dolls', a place Matt assumed was some form of '_gentleman's club_' due to the ultraviolet female silhouette acting as the clubs punctuation. Even as he stood outside the clubs door he could hear the excited notes of an identifiable punk rock song blasting from the insides along with a few wolf whistles that did nothing to invite Matt inside. Matt tore his gaze from the door to look at Mello.

"What are we doing here?" Matt asked hoping Mello wouldn't say something about crossing the threshold of the club even though it was pain staking obvious that they were.

Mello looked reluctant to answer, "I'm going to talk to the owner. You'd be best to wait downstairs, he doesn't get on well with strangers."

Matt held back a remark.

Mello gave his arm a reassuring squeeze as he walked towards the door indicating Matt should follow him. Matt hesitantly followed Mello with small unsure steps.

Matt was to occupied with keeping his gaze on the floor to notice the bouncer.

"Can I help you?" The man growled obviously not enjoying waiting out in the autumn chill.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Mello countered, his eyes piercing with intimidation. "I'm here to see the owner."

The man almost laughed, "And is the boss expecting you?" He questioned with a comical raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, under the name of _Mello_ I believe," Matt watched Mello smirk as the man's entire demeanour changed.

"Oh, of course. But what about him. I can't have any kids in there," The man stated pointing a large finger at Matt.

"Don't worry about him, he won't cause any trouble," Mello replied as he opened the door to the club letting the music escape in almost deafening waves. Mello held the door open for Matt nodding his head inside and Matt spared the bouncer another long stare before complying with Mello's request.

The stench of alcohol was thick filling the room with an atmosphere of dizziness and hopeful thoughts as confident hands got a little too wandering. To call the men drunk would be an understatement and to call the girls desperate would be even more so but they hid it behind smiling facades and costume make up to cover the parts they truly didn't wish to show. Eyes followed movements of the scantily clad bodies as they moved with purpose but lacking direction. It was all lust, men watching women and Matt shifted uncomfortably feeling out of place as he belonged to neither group.

"Okay, I'm going to head upstairs. You'll have to stay down here though. Just sit down by the bar and you should be okay. Don't talk to anyone and if anything happens… well I won't be long," Mello explained. Matt knew a lot of things could happen before Mello would come down but he feigned ignorance and ignored the trail of thought.

Mello seemed to sense Matt's pause and lightly lifted Matt's chin to look him in the eye, "I'll be five minutes, tops." Mello withdrew his hand slowly with a rather absent look about his face giving Matt the impression that Mello was trying to remember something. With nothing but another small smile, Mello left.

Matt felt more than uncomfortable in the setting, especially standing pointlessly in the middle of the club, so he chose to follow Mello's request of sitting down. The bar was, despite the relatively early hours, busy with men in a variation of stages of intoxication. Matt didn't even know people started drinking before four but then again he wasn't exactly used to this type of crowd.

After deciding the men at the bar where far too rambunctious for him, he looked around in hope of a quiet place but soon realised that it was completely hopeless. But as Matt looked around he met the familiar shine of gold that reflected the pulsing lights of the club. Mello was standing in the shadowed depths of the stage speaking closely with a tall blonde woman. Matt's brain began to assume she was the boss but then he remembered Mello speaking of 'him' and of course the woman's barley covered body only disproved Matt's assumption. Matt felt a swelling in his chest, one he named annoyance. All though they didn't look happy the proximity of their conversation was close. Too close. Matt noticed how pretty she was even through the shadows. Matt vaguely wondered if Mello ever named her beautiful but quickly shook the thought from his head as it didn't settle all too well.

Practically tearing his gaze away from the two he sat down abruptly in the closest chair he could find. Matt stared intently at his shirt for a while, hating how the striped garment was far too big causing it to slip down his shoulders and expose his collar bones. He was drawn from his thoughts by a cackle from one of the dancers sitting on a man's lap.

"I'm no doing that cheeky," She scolded, her voice nasal and brittle not at all matching the supposed attractiveness she was trying to create with her heavy makeup.

"Everyone's got a price darling, everyone's got a price," The man bargained moving his hands from her backside to her face, pulling her in to a sloppy kiss.

Through the background noise of music and vulgar slurps he remembered it again. The things that parted the mist before. He could hear the excited shouts of the crowd who kept competing in large numbers smirking over the rims of shot glasses. And the pounding of his own brain, as if he could feel it pulsing and writhing in his head. Everything hurt. The world was too bright and the smell was too bitter. He wanted it to stop but it wouldn't, it just dragged on like it had back then. They were laughing, as if he was a joke. They were staring, as if he a farm animal being sold to the butcher. They were smiling, as if they knew, as if they knew what he had become.

The bile was rising in his throat once more which is the one thing that reminded him of reality, the one thing that drew him from the clouded memories. He opened his eyes in hope that he hadn't drew too much attention to himself but found that the world around him was closing in, distorting normality until it was streaks of blended colours. Needing a form of refuge he cautiously but admittedly very clumsily got to his feet. He made his way towards a bright sign that hung on the wall assuming it was an exit but to rushed to know for sure. As he tripped, he fell towards the door silently thanking fate that it pushed open as he stumbled into the fresh air.

He stood inhaling and exhaling methodically.

"Had a bit too much to drink sweetheart," A voice called out from behind.

Matt turned towards the voice, the man didn't look much older than himself but he held the very air of maturity and authority. The man was rather attractive but had the glint of mischievous intent on his face. The man's head surveyed him from head to toe obviously appreciating the view as his smirk all but grew.

Matt recalled Mello's words about not speaking with strangers but the swelling returned inside and almost as if to spite Mello he spoke, "Not exactly, I just… I don't know, needed a bit of fresh air I guess."

The man pushed off the wall of the club and began making his way towards him. Matt bit back a shiver as he approached wanting nothing more to flee, why he stayed he wasn't sure but a small part of him was enjoying the fact he shouldn't be here. The man lit up a cigarette and teasingly exhaled it in long drawn out breaths.

"Want one?" He offered handing out his pack.

"No thanks I don't smoke," Matt declined politely again questioning his reasons for enduring both the fearful silence and biting autumn wind.

"Nah, I didn't either but you'd be amazed the things you no longer care about. Trust me, if I'm alive long enough to develop lung cancer I'll revel in victory," The man laughed loudly making Matt question how sober the man was or if he missed some kind of joke. "So what's your story red head?" The man smiled slipping Matt a wink as he stubbed his cigarette out with his boot.

"I don't know what you mean," Matt lied looking down at his feet to 'play the innocent' as Mello had put it.

"You know exactly what I mean, pretty thing like you in a place like this," The man shook his head in mock bewilderment, "And I saw you walk in with Mello."

Matt's whole world paused.

"Mello?" Matt questioned cutting the innocent act and turning serious. The man's smile widened.

"Yeah Mello, you know who I'm talking about. Now don't get me wrong he's a pretty face and all but he's a mean ass mother fucker so you'd stay away from him if you knew what was good for you." The words came out warm from his mouth which battled against the airs chill until it turned to steam. The steam hung in the air circulating just out of Matt's reach as if to tease him.

Matt was pulled away from internal debate by Mello's voice, "Matt, what are you doing out here?"

Matt racked his brain for a plausible excuse but only emerged with a small, "um."

"Come inside, it's freezing out here?" Mello sighed gesturing for Matt to come back inside. Matt didn't need to think twice about following, wanting nothing more than to leave the cold.

Matt began to truly wonder if his existence would ever be void of questions. He walked behind Mello as they re-entered the club truly wondering what went on inside the blonde haired enigma.

.

The owner was a thin man, his sunken eyes and broken veins let loose the secret of his addictions along with bloodshot eyes that followed Matt's every movement.

As Mello led Matt into the club he was rather surprised to be greeted by a man sitting impatiently at one of the tables. All the dancers took note of his presence as well, still keeping their distance but their interest was peaked. The man downed another scotch not wincing as it burned his throat.

"Is this the one?" The man growled his voice filled with drink and distaste.

"Yeah. Matt this is Lyon he's the owner of the club," Mello introduced tensely almost as if he too could sense the foreboding events.

"But you can call me boss." And at his own comment he laughed bitterly before lighting up a cigarette and inhaling in victory.

Matt's eyebrows rose at the words looking to Mello for a reassuring explanation. But none came.

"_Boss?_" Matt asked turning fully towards Mello now, making sure he couldn't escape his questioning stare.

"Yeah," Lyon interrupted, "That's the deal. Gotta say I'm not really sure about the whole 'being a boy' thing but I can sell it. And besides, he looks pretty girly and everyone loves a red head."

Matt supposed the man was trying to clear his confusion but it only increased along with his fear. Mello exhaled loudly next to him, raising his eyes sheepishly, "Yeah…um….," Mello sighed once more and grasped the back of his own neck in his signature awkwardness. "Look the pay is good, really good and plus tips… the hours are good as well so you still have time to do other things. This place has good security and it's a strict no touch policy I assure you and well…"

"You're not suggesting what I think you are," Matt demanded stepping away from Mello with fast fleeting footsteps.

The whole club had paused now seeming to be very entertained by the scene playing out before them. The drunks at the bar grinned in satisfaction and the dancers in the club seemed glad for the distraction.

"What do you say little red? Wanna be a dancer?"

.

The car ride back to the base was even more awkward and tense as the last one. The silence only broken with huffs and long drawn out sighs.

Mello had explained and apologized but Matt had grown tired of listening choosing to shout out protests and insults for a while until his voice grew scratchy and defeated. Matt didn't want to cry but he could feel tears collecting in his eyes and the drying choke of sobs burying in his chest.

The car pulled to a stop but neither of them moved.

"I'm sorry, really I am," Mello implored drooping his head in shame.

"For which part," Matt challenged throwing his head back till it met the hard head rest.

"For buying you, for shouting at you, for forcing you to do this, for making you do things you don't want to do, for not taking you home, for trying to emphasise with your pain just so I can try to understand something above my own selfishness." Mello ran a hand in his hair after he spoke sighing in defeat.

Matt felt pity for Mello, he wasn't sure why but he did. Matt recalled every word Mello just said, the list he'd been building in his head since he first saw him. Matt was being selfish and Mello thought he was being selfish and Matt supposed that should unite them in all of this, that and the fact he knew Mello despised it as much as him.

"I forgive you." Matt felt the tears emerging once again but not for his own self-pity any more, but for Mello.

Mello raised his head in confusion but met Matt's stable gaze and chose not to deny it. Matt smiled at Mello and for the first time ever he smiled back truly, a large smile that lit his face up making him seems much more beautiful.

"Come on then let's go in, there's no point delaying the inevitable," Matt prompted as he reached for his door handle. Mello exited too; well past dazed by Matt's inner strength.

Mello heard a small laugh from behind him and turned to see Matt roll his eyes and turn to the floor. Matt bent down and picked up a ten pond note shaking his head with a smile, "You know what they say, every little helps." Mello laughed as well, slowing for Matt to catch up.

They walked towards the base in sync, considerably closer than they had been upon leaving.

* * *

**Current debt: £4,999,990**

* * *

**A/N: Hope your liking the idea of stripper Matt just as much as I am. That means a lot of sexual tension and short shorts are on their way. Will Matt be naturally skilled at seduction? Will Mello be able to stop himself from ravishing in him? Will they actually havbe a normal conversation? Why don't you tell me your thoughts and feelings in a review?**


	4. Chapter 4 - Words Alone

**Chapter 4 – Words alone**

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**A/N:** **I hope you hate me because I hate me. It's been too long and I really hate excuses but you know the whole exam finals and all that jazz but with three months off you should be expecting lots of more frequent updates from me. **

**I cannot begin to explain how amazing you all are though I got so much positive feedback from the last chapter and so many new follows and favourites so thank you so much! **

**This chapter was impossible and there isn't much action and for that I'm sorry but it has character development and a fuck load of foreshadowing so it **_**is**_** important. I really wish it could be more climatic but when it's over **_**TEN THOUSAND**_** words anymore and it would be more than a little ridiculous. **

* * *

The silence seemed always present now; it's comforting under layer acted as the boundaries of each other's presence. Almost like it was the very thread that kept them together, despite it being frayed and tattered acted just as conventional as any other. No matter how awkward or hard it had gotten Matt and Mello always had silence to fall back on knowing it was safe and stood proud intertwined with a mutual understanding.

As words were unneeded Matt had begun to watch Mello's movements that were, although abnormal, rather methodical.

The first was Mello's eating habits which in the short amount of time he had known and observed Mello mostly consisted of chocolate. It wasn't so much the actual choice of food that perplexed him, more of the timings that arrived desperately at daily intervals where Mello was nervous or angry which again seemed to be the majority of the time.

The second was the distance that Mello ruled would remain between them. Matt had interpreted it as shyness at first but he soon realised how abnormal actually speaking to someone was to Mello. He seemed too unsure sometimes and occasionally his mouth would open as if to say something but nothing prevailed and then he'd grip the back of his neck or run his fingers through his hair. Although Matt pitied him he did rather enjoy the fact that Mello still seemed so concerned for his wellbeing despite all the odds that Mello was not the friendly or caring sought.

The third was his anger. Although Mello never directed it towards him and still continued to shield it whenever he was around, it was ever present and would arrive from the dark depths of Mello's brain in terrifying coldness. Even Mello's… _colleagues_ seemed wary of it and when Mello would lose his patience the untainted fear in their eyes was unexplainable considering their brutal looks and questionable backgrounds.

Despite the many signs, Matt still thought Mello as the victim.

"Fucking wanker," Mello muttered under his breath followed by many car horns blasting and other not so quiet curses directed at Mello.

Oh, that was another point; Mello was a _very_ bad driver.

"He only speeded past you because you pulled out on him earlier," Matt commented at the amusing site.

"So, no reason for him to act all fucking smug about it," Mello defended childishly and Matt couldn't help but smile.

"Where the hell did you learn to drive anyway because I can't exactly imagine any instructor deem you suitable for the road," Matt joked moving his gaze from the window to Mello's pout.

"I'm a great driver, it's everyone else that's crap," and despite trying not to Mello smiled as well.

"Whatever you say Mello," Matt laughed and Mello joined in sarcastically.

"Oh and I suppose you're the regular _formula one_ driver then? I bet you don't even know how to drive," Mello scoffed pulling into the other lane without indication replaying all the car horns and curses once more.

Matt laughed again, glad that he felt so relaxed and calm even if it was all just a distraction. Matt indulged himself in a defence, a bemused expression in his eye, "I'm seventeen and I live- lived in a boring town of course I can drive."

Mello turned with a raised eyebrow at Matt, clearly not caring about the road of annoyed drivers, "You're seventeen?"

Matt became confused until he realised Mello didn't know how old he was, well honestly he didn't know anything about him but it seemed so oddly fitting as he knew nothing of Mello. He guessed Mello had more to hide, exciting things clouded with darkness and blood. Matt attempted to guess what was behind Mello's blue eyes but knew there were certain barricades that were not made to be broken easily, but Matt was always one for a challenge. "Oh, yeah… I guess you don't even know that about me," He frowned not moving his eyes away from Mello's.

Mello smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry I should have asked. It just surprises me though you look… younger."

Matt occupied his gaze with the view of passing tarmac leaving Mello's eye's to venture alone, "Any younger and it would be illegal but I guess that's not a problem." In his brain the words sounded more witty and sarcastic but it seemed his voice was not one to waver with such instructions causing it to sound bitty and harsh. Matt rounded back towards Mello who looked devastated, the look lasted for all but a few seconds but Matt had already saw it causing it's coverage to be completely pointless. Matt muttered a curse at himself and turned to Mello and his new stern emotionless mask, "Sorry I didn't-"

"Stop apologising," Mello cut off sternly, not removing his hard glare from the road.

Matt sighed and tried to turn his tone to reassuring and stubborn before speaking, "Why should I? What I said was uncalled for."

"You don't have to apologize to me, ever," Mello implored, his tone leaving no room for disagreement, "It would be rather hypocritical of me to demand so."

Matt moved his hand slowly, grasping Mello's leather jacket firmly. Mello moved his gaze to the hand, looking down at it with such confusion but overall he looked scared of its closeness and surety, "You haven't done anything wrong."

For a moment Matt thought he had convinced him but sure enough Mello pulled away, the dark glint of anger shadowing his beautiful blue eyes. "No? What about buying you at an auction like you were a fucking object-"

"That doesn't matter, I forgave you remember?" Matt wanted to touch him again but thought better of it choosing to add on, in a hopefully convincing tone, "And anyway you did me a favour."

"A favour?" His sarcasm is biting and, in Matt's view, completely unnecessary. They stare levelly for mere seconds, an emotional emerald confronting a fierce blue and they battle for each other's supposed wellbeing in a stubborn fashion.

And it's silent, just like before.

And Matt can see Mello, see right through the black pools of his pupils _at_ _him_, seeing Mello and he doesn't flinch, he doesn't cower or even comment just observes with an intoxicating thoroughness that Mello does. So Matt speaks, in hope of reaching the actual Mello and hoping that he'll see his way even though he heavily doubts it, "Yes a favour, stop being so hard on yourself, I forgive you. You saved me from god knows what. I can't even begin to think of what would have happened to me if you hadn't brought me."

Mello hears the notes of Matt's voice and tries to listen but he _can't_. The pain of guilt too much until he feels like its throttling him, with his own hands to show that he _should_ be punished. It just seems all that more painful due to the fact that Matt forgives him because he shouldn't. Apologises weren't meant for people like him. "Stop thinking like that," He all but demands not giving himself the satisfaction of meeting Matt's beautiful eyes again.

"Like what? Thinking that this is the best thing that could have happens to me because-"Matt begins, his tone raising in pitch, nearly reaching its crescendo but Mello cuts him off with an equally as level tone.

"Because it's not! You should be living your own life, doing your own things, going to school, meeting your friends or falling in…" Mello drops Matt's eyes, visually collecting himself but inside knowing he remained just as weak and broken as before. "Don't for one second think this is good for you because it's not, it's poisonous. Don't for one second thank me, don't for one second think I'm the good guy because I'm not."

Mello expects Matt to flinch, to shout, to do anything but sit still like he is. Mello fears he's scared but he's not, he looks stable and stubborn and Mello doesn't like it because it suggests that he deserves Matt's emotions. Because there's pity. So much pity in his eyes. "No," Matt dismisses.

Mello hates how close he is, how unafraid Matt is and how happy he feels because of it. He wants to hit him, shake him and shout but he can't bring himself to, because he promised Matt he would protect him from harm knowing that he was the one thing he would need protecting from. He can't do anything except demand, "Stop it," despite knowing that Matt wouldn't.

"No," Matt answered as foretold, "I know this isn't right, everything in my life right now is wrong and unfair but there is nothing I can do about that. I can't go home, I can't go to school, I can't do anything I used to do but you aren't to blame for that. Blame the people who followed me home and drugged me. You aren't wrong they are and everything else is."

Mello wanted to believe it but he couldn't. All he felt was a numb envy that Matt could believe that he was kind and caring and that the world around them was wrong and not him. But it was hopeless hoping, hopeless trying to believe that it could change because it wouldn't. The world doesn't change the people do and Mello really wanted Matt to remain the same. He couldn't and wouldn't believe that things could get better.

But it was there, the idea of future happiness being a possibility but the fact it was there didn't bring happiness or excitement that in the end it would be worth it, it just stuck in his mind and seeped its poison into his brain until it became unbearable.

Because Mello was past, present and future.

He concluded his thoughts abruptly and he told himself and the world around him, "No."

Then came the silence.

Matt blinked the tears away and Mello composed himself, neither of them meeting the others eye.

Matt wanted to take it back, he didn't like the silence. It was cold and heavy and made Matt realise how lonely he was. He just wanted a small comfort of closeness, even just words to amount to any form of security. Just a simple 'It'll all be okay' would subside but the silence just made it impossible. There were no spoken words of warmth, there was no embrace of a touch, just a silence.

Matt wasn't sure how long he had endured the nothingness but eventually the darkness had somewhat faded and Matt found the air clear enough to speak, "Where are we going?"

Silence…

"To the club," Mello answered after a long pause, so long in fact that Matt had nearly forgotten what he'd asked.

"Oh," He stated as the words and their meaning seeped in. He hated the idea that he'd even have to go back there. The smell of alcohol and the tangent warmth of heavily pressed bodies against one another was alone a reason he didn't want to return. To state his displeasure simply he said, "I'm not ready," because he really felt like it was too short a time to rewrite his entire being and be someone that would happily take of their clothes in the public eye.

Mello met his eyes again, numbing Matt's fear for a while. "I know. Paige is going to give you some… I don't know lessons I guess," Mello comforted but the unknown meaning behind those words made the desired result to swap to contrasting insecurities.

"Who's Paige?" He asked because it seemed that the question needed to be asked.

"A… friend," Mello paused looking through the window with a sudden keen interest, "She's nice and she's been working there for a while now so you'll be fine."

"Oh," Matt worded once more because it wasn't his place to question Mello or his self-proclaimed distance.

And they continued the drive in silence.

.

It was rather strange to see the club looking so void of life and Matt almost wanted to admit that he missed the blasting notes of the music but then he reminded himself not to as it would be nothing but a lie. Due to the lack of music the sounds of the city around them became more present; the murmurs of streetwalkers, the rustling of a tramp in the back alley along with curses and sighs and Matt thought if he tried hard enough he could possibly hear a tweeting bird or two but dismissed it as he knew the only birds in the city were pigeons and their song wasn't nearly as sweet.

Mello stood next to him now, following his eyes and then turning to him with a look of sadness. His mouth opened but like all the other times it shut and his eyes no longer could hold the desperation. Matt almost felt as if he should comfort him but the selfish thoughts emerged in his brain and all he could do was stay still, reminding himself that everything was going to be okay.

The bouncer stood in the same place as yesterday but he appeared to have drooped, with a cigarette in place between his tightly coiled grimace. His eyes rolled in remembrance and simply nodded them inside occupying his sight with the city's morning traffic.

Matt moved first making his way towards the door with Mello in tow and this time, as if for irony's sake, he held the door open for Mello and nodded him inside. Matt found himself smiling and looked to Mello for a similar reaction but Mello was empty and lifeless causing his grin to diminish into a frown.

The clubs interior was more highlighted in the daytime, numerous tables with uncomfortable looking chairs, one large stage with a pole that made Matt blush and a few questionable rooms situated at the back. The biggest change was the lack of dancers, one or two women could be seen at the bar or cleaning down the tables but their attire lacked showmanship and their faces were void of excess makeup. A few of them turned towards Matt and immediately hushed whispers escaped in clusters making Matt feel like he was the new kid at school, but a school full of popular girls that seemed determined to make him feel out of place.

Matt returned their stares hoping to show how unintimidated he was but deep inside knowing he was failing as he was always the person to fall short and let all the spoken venom seep into his heart. Their eyes travelled from Matt to Mello and the whispers evolved into harsh accusations at insensitive volumes.

"Ignore them," Mello whispered warmly into his ear, both the sound and presence making him jump and then grimace at the even louder whispers and laughs escaping from their audience.

Matt wanted to tell Mello that he couldn't or at least deny the idea that he was listening but found all points mute because he couldn't trust himself to mutter either. The space between them was nearly non-existent and Matt felt if he were to lean back he could hear the strong notes of Mello's heart. He could feel Mello's breath, he could see the blonde strands shielding copper and he could smell Mello; his chocolate and shampoo. The feelings simply reminded Matt how alone he truly was.

As it all got too much to bear and the collective taunts merged into one loud and obnoxious song, one sound cut through, a woman's voice, tone excited and loud, "Mello!"

Matt grew confused for a moment but then thankful as the club became silent, all except the pitter patter of running feet.

"Mello!" The voice cheered again, its source a tall blonde woman wearing next to nothing. The same woman in which Mello had spoken to yesterday.

The woman jumped into Mello's arms and they engaged in an embrace, one that seemed to stretch on awkwardly until Matt began to feel even more out of place.

"Yes hello, Paige," Mello sighed as he attempted to separate himself from the woman's clutches.

Eventually the woman let go and she turned with an indescribable energy for a time and location such as this, "Who's this?" she asked as she watched Matt shuffle from foot to foot.

Matt found his eyes refusing to look up so he didn't answer and waited for Mello's introduction.

"Oh um… this is Matt," Mello stated, gripping the back of his neck in his signature awkwardness.

Matt supposed it would be rude if he didn't meet her eyes so he lifted his head with caution. Her eyes were a light blue and to his surprise held an untainted happiness were he guessed there would be hostility. And she was smiling still, it widening as she spoke, "So you're the one everyone's talking about. You were right Mello, he's adorable."

Matt's cheeks reddened at the words and he couldn't help but turn to Mello who looked just as struck with embarrassment.

But the woman just laughed cheerfully and turned to Matt with a wink, "So Matt, as Mello's too grumpy to introduce me I'm Paige and I'll help you out around here. If you ever need anything come talk to me and I'll sought it out, okay?"

She reached a well-manicured hand out to grasp his shoulder lightly and bent down slightly to his level. Matt felt more than a little patronised but the woman's good intensions over-shone that fact so he thanked her with the smallest of smiles, "Oh… Thank you."

"Don't mention it sweetheart. So have you ever danced before?" She questioned her height magnifying as she straightened up making Matt feel like a woodland creature and she the mighty oak.

Matt cringed as he remembered the true reason why he had returned to the club. "No, I'm terrible," He answered truthfully as he waited for her smile to diminish into a wince but it didn't, in fact it only seemed to intensify.

"Don't worry about it sweetheart secretly we all are. But don't worry I'll teach you how to hide the fact you've got two left feet okay?" She winked again like she understood but he honestly didn't think she did. But throughout the conversation, her smile didn't waver.

"I guess," Matt shrugged guessing some kind of response would stop her grinning but once more his assumptions were proven incorrect.

She grabbed one of his hands and started to pull him along, "Come on then, I'll take you to one of the back rooms to start training."

Matt pressed harder against the ground until the resistance on Paige's hand on his wrist intensified and they came to a halt, "Now?"

"There's no time like the present," She chimed as perky as ever.

He turned to Mello as his last hope. The distance between them grew but Mello stepped forward, reading the fear in Matt's eyes, "Matt it will be okay, I…"

"Promise," Matt finished pleading for Mello's comforting security.

"Yeah, I promise."

As Matt was finally led away Mello found himself staring at where he was previously, trying to remember every detail on his face. Trying to remember the way he looked when he believed him.

.

Paige stood straight, either poised on her toes or naturally gifted in the art of shadowing those below her and her height only seemed to grow now there was no Mello to median. Her mouth was pulled into a cheerful grin which gave the very air as if they were old friends reunited once more, like she was the host to the reunion and was gladly showing him around. Matt felt both frustrated and partly comforted by this, but he did feel her arm linked in his was a little too excessive. She led him into the backstage, pulling him in front of a large mirror decorated with stickers and photographs. Every piece of decoration around the mirror held age and endurance, the edges worn and tattered showing signs of events that would forever remain unknown to anyone but its beholder.

Her smile remained as wide as ever as her eyes trailed down his body's reflection systematically with an almost too experienced expression. "We will need to get you some clothes though; it'll be easier to train that way," She commented with a tone that was questionable but still held her signature glee.

Matt let the comment seep in, again attempting to dismiss all thoughts associating himself with the new kid at school. Matt followed her eyes and looked at his clothes with an empty and defensive expression, "I don't really have any clothes, these are the ones I was given by Mello, and there wasn't exactly a wide variety."

Her eyes met his in the mirror and Matt looked away due to the movement of her hands that threaded themselves into his hair in a petting gesture. "Don't worry about it love, I'm sure I'll find you something," her tone was so genuine Matt thought it was a mirage or put on like another layer of artificial makeup but her eyes held a warmth of a certain motherly quality.

Matt once more doubted the words but he was glad he could finally ask questions without feeling guilty, "Are you sure? I thought I was the only male dancer."

"You are but you're slim and small so you'll fit in anything," Paige answered as she moved over towards the clothes rack, pushing the clothes aside slowly using one idle finger at a time. Matt's nerves were not as settled as he had hoped but Paige turned again, her silvery blond hair sliding too sleekly off her shoulders, "Don't worry love; I'm not going to put you in a bra and thong. I'll keep it decent."

"Thank you," Matt replied, instantly sighing in relief. He couldn't exactly imagine a decent attire for a stripper but still feigned ignorance at his brain's over active trails.

Paige however seemed to be on his wavelength, "Hm… I've got to find the right balance between decent and revealing," She dramatically fell to the floor and began searching beneath the clothes rack in a few cardboard boxes. "Shame most the girls here dress like whores even out of the club," She commented and Matt almost wanted to correct her and say that they were whores and so was she, and Matt guessed so was he now. He bit back the feeling of pain at the thought, begging his brain not to take him back to memories of the past, not now and not ever again. Paige sensed his silence and changed the context of their conversation to stereotypical small talk, "How old are you exactly?"

Matt answered as he felt obliged, "Seventeen," and just for the necessities he added, "Just."

"So you're still in school then?" She continued her tone continued to remain absent as if her mind was elsewhere and Matt was simply like a song on the radio, unfocussed and there just to cut through the silence.

"Yeah, I'm still in college," Matt answered although not wanting to relive his past as it all seemed far too silly now.

"Do all your friends go there?" She piped up again probably to ensure herself that Matt could hear her over her rummaging.

Matt thought about the words, thought about how easy it would be to lie but wondered what the point would be so he spoke the truth, shamefully admitting internally that it really wasn't as heroic as he was making out, "I guess… I'm not really a people person."

Paige stopped rummaging and made her way back over towards him. At first Matt feared she was going to comfort him but thankfully she didn't and she placed a pile of clothes on the desk. She continued to follow the trail of light-hearted conversation though, "Really? I bet you had all the boys and girls swooning at your feet."

Matt wanted to scoff at the words but quickly decided that it was a form of self-pity so he forfeited it for a simple: "Not really."

"I bet you just didn't notice." She grinned as she placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly before she removed it with a look and pulled out a small pair of black shorts from the pile, "These look like they'd fit you."

Matt looked at the garment for a while taking in its indecent length and tight material. Matt missed his old clothes, not that he was ever one for fashion but at least he could pick them at his own free will and express who he really was; laidback Matt that is a little too small for his age but prefers comfort over appearances. Matt was a strong believer that your clothes should symbolise who you really were and these shorts suggested that they belonged to a person that like being cold and settling eyes, a person who liked to bend down when wearing them just for a kick, Matt was not that person nor would he ever be. He understood that he was supposed to play the part of make-believe with everyone around him making them think that he wasn't terrified and he liked their advances but he most definitely didn't and that was something this short piece of costume could never hide.

He attempted to word his displeasure without sounding ungrateful, "They look a bit small."

She sighed and met his eyes once more, her blue eyes weren't as pretty as Mello's; they were darker and lacked a shine of emotion. Matt felt his eyes sinking deeper into hers despite it being just a simple reflection, "Well unfortunately you have to show a little skin. Count yourself lucky you get to keep your clothes on." Her words were spoken with a small smile making it impossible for Matt to translate them into harshness deeming him ungrateful because her smile was too warm to associate herself with such things.

"It's a small victory," He replied shortly moving his eyes to his own reflection, glaring at it as if it was to blame. He didn't like his reflection as it showed all his cracks and imperfections, highlighting his dark circles and bloodshot eyes.

"But a victory all the same," She countered squeezing his shoulder once more. Matt began to wonder if she was really this optimistic or if it was just a lie she told herself and those around her, if so she was a wonderful actress, shame no one would ever give her an award for anything except money they'd through at her and her pretty face. Matt wished she would stop smiling and tell him how harsh her reality really was because he just wanted the small comfort of knowing people were worse off than him despite how selfish and bitter it sounded. She changed the subject once more attempting to keep it light and friendly despite it being next to impossible, "I'm not sure about your top though, I guess the one you've got on now will be fine. It's big enough to show some skin and it really shows off your tiny frame. It'll work for now."

A silence began and Matt found his eyes shifting to the mirrors border and the photographs that stayed affix. Matt didn't recognise any of them but it didn't exactly surprise him as he was very new to this type of lifestyle. Most of the people in the pictures were men, some significantly older than Paige but her face remained the same, gleeful and full of life. Matt couldn't help but to search for Mello but he didn't seem to be there, just men and the odd dancer. Matt felt sad that it was all her life appeared to amount to.

Matt was pulled from his thoughts by a short tug at his hair, "Your hair is beautiful. Is it natural?" Her face was stretched into an over enthusiastic smile. Her voice was high and loud but mildly comforting, still not enough to want to remain in silence although he was glad for the distraction.

"Yeah," He replied simply, putting on a shadow of a smile.

She pouted dramatically and then grinned again, "I'm jealous."

Matt wanted to scoff again but thought it would be more effective to look her in the eye and say: "You shouldn't be." Despite the dark words Paige still remained chipper as she played with his hair softly, subconsciously calming Matt significantly. Matt wanted to apologise but didn't feel the need as he met her smile in the mirror, her face showed she already understood. Matt felt almost at peace with Paige's presence as it lacked the stress and fear his other conversations had entailed. He searched for questions that he wanted to know and immediately the picture of her and Mello in a tight embrace sprung to mind. Matt once more felt the same twist and he decided the question held a selfish authority over all others but he didn't know how to ask causing only one sound to emerge from his lips, "Um…"

She sensed his question and turned him slightly on the chair so they were actually face to face, no reflections to mask both of their curiosity and absent emotions, "What is it love, you can ask me anything?"

Matt decided he didn't need to be subtle as he was sure she had dealt with rudeness before but attempted to lessen the keenness, "How long have you… _been_ with Mello?"

Paige's eyes filled with confusion before a fit of giggles left her mouth, "Oh sweetie it's not like that. God no. I don't think I'm exactly his type. Mello saved me _way_ back in the past," She excused as if it should clear up Matt's questions.

"Saved you how?" Matt asked as it was all he could do. Matt wanted to dismiss the fact he felt jealous.

She sucked in a deep and slightly shaking breath, "My brother was in his bloody Mafia clan, I can't say I'm surprised, Jay was always one for danger. Well long story short he got in deep, too deep and dragged everyone down with him. They killed him off and they were gonna kill me too. Mello's steps in of course like bloody prince charming and I get away. Jay's still dead though but there's no point dwelling on the past." Despite the words holding such depth and sadness her tone remained light and dismissive showing Matt how long she had to pretend to be someone else.

"I'm sorry," He condoled, wanting to apologise for sounding so insensitive. A small silence passed before Matt asked another, "Were you close with Mello back then?"

"No, strangers practically, but Mello's just a softie at heart," She laughed as if they could both bond and understand Mello and his ways. Matt thought that they possibly could. Her smile faltered into a slightly upturned line and she turned Matt back towards the mirror and released a shakier more unstable breath this time, "After Jay died Mello found me here and told me how sorry he was. It didn't take much but meant more to me than anything else could because he didn't have to do it but he did it anyway."

Matt smiled this time, "Yeah, he seems to do that a lot."

Paige laughed quietly and stroked his hair again, "Yeah, gotta love him, despite all the baggage he brings with him." She laughed again and straightened her posture as she picked up a hairbrush of the desk. She slowly brought the brush to his hair, as if asking for permission and as Matt didn't protest she began to comb his hair slowly. The brush's strokes were soft and comforting and Matt was glad that they didn't pull at his tangles. He felt like a child again, as if Paige was some guardian or big sister brushing his hair before they went out. The image only became clearer and more humorous at Paige's next words, "So, what do you think of him?"

Matt smiled a little but as he thought about Mello and all his twisted insides the smile became defeated and the feeling of pity rose once more. Matt didn't think there was a single word to describe Mello so he chose a few that synopsised him as simply as he could, "He's sad. He's angry," But the words weren't enough, Mello was deeper than that so he added, because he felt it was the most important, "But he does care."

"Guess that sums it up pretty well. Are you two getting on alright?" She continued attempting to keep the mood light and shallow.

"I guess… he's very reserved but I guess that's not a bad thing," Matt answered feeling as if he wasn't giving Mello justice but for now it would simply have to subsidise.

"Yeah but he'll cave in eventually, he likes you a lot," She whispered putting down the hair brush and smoothing down the few stray hairs. She was being too casual, as if she wanted Matt to simply skim over the words until later but still Matt couldn't help but feel how wrong she was, Mello had only spoken to her twice since Matt had arrived and that was not enough for her to know. Not that there was much to know except the awkward silences and empty curious stares. She smiled at his internal debate shown occasionally by burrowed eyebrows; she changed the subject once more, returning to their previous small conversation, "So what is it exactly you do at college?"

"I do Computer Science," Matt answered eventually pushing away his confusion. It seemed so strange to speak those words now, the thing that had ruled his schedule and mind with coursework was now seemingly too proper for this world.

"Computers _and_ Science? Now there are two things I would never put together," Paige wondered, her face full of confusion.

Matt felt glad to describe it, the memories still fresh in his brain, "It's not as complicated as it sounds. The course mainly involves building certain computer programs using algorithms and coding and stuff like that. And you get taught to hack as well but it's all pretty simple. It's about the only thing I _am _good at." Matt missed the computers, he missed his old seat at college that was broken and he even missed his lazy teacher now. It seemed like another lifetime now, not to be relived again, just the past, who Matt used to be.

Paige's hands stopped suddenly, the silence after Matt's words turned dark and heavier. She moved her hands again but she was more tense and hurried, "Hacking?"

Matt wondered what was wrong but her tone edged him to continue, "Yeah, you get taught ethical hacking on syllabus but I could still hack other things as the skills are pretty much exactly the same. The other trickier stuff I taught myself, you'd be amazed how easy it is to learn that kind of stuff."

"You can hack? Have you told anyone else this?" She voice was tight, so contrasting and desperate that he was scared.

Matt thought long and hard, knowing for some unknown reason that this was important, "Um… no why?"

"Don't. Not even Mello." She was scared too; he could see it in her eyes.

"Why?" He asked because he had to.

"Trust me. Don't tell another soul, some things are best kept to yourself," Her eyes filled with intensity and importance and Matt found all he could do was to nod. He wanted to find Mello, tell him it had happened and what was wrong. He wanted Mello to say that he could rely on him because Matt trusted him because he really wanted to. Now life hadn't even granted him that small security. Paige moved away returning with the small shorts in hand and a smile plastered back on her face. "Now, I'm pretty sure the shorts will fit and you're cute enough to pull pretty much anything off. The changing rooms are around the back, you'll get your own private stall when you start officially but until then use mine, it's got 'Paige' on the front in big writing so you can't miss it."

Matt hated the smile, hated the promise he had made but glad that she seemed to be looking out for him. "Okay. Thank you," He replied trying to smile but failing, still he was glad it didn't emerge in a whimper.

"Don't mention it love, I'll wait here. The rooms are just behind there," She stated pointing Matt to one of the doors. Matt moved slowly, the weight of the words dragging him down. He turned towards the door and Paige passed him the shorts and a small smile. Matt moved towards the door and pulled the handle shakily. "And Matt?" Paige called from behind.

"Yeah?" Matt answered turning towards her.

"What's an algorithm?"

.

The mirror was slender and cracked but it still gave Matt a rather clear image of himself. The only word Matt seemed to find to describe his 'new' look was… _revealing_. And that was putting it lightly. Matt had never been a fan of his knees as they seemed far too knobbly and pale but now as he stared at his entire bottom half he realised they were the last thing he should be concerned about. Matt's long legs were revealed, along with the lower third of his backside further enhanced by the tight strangle of the god awful tiny shorts. He could see everything, even the parts of his body he didn't often note and both the harsh lighting of the changing room and the bitter exaggeration of the mirror made him look even more unappealing.

In simple words, Matt looked like a whore. And to be even more honest the look was perfection. Cold, disgusting, ugly perfection in all its bloody glory.

Matt really did hate mirrors, but not nearly as much as the person inside of it.

Rock bottom was always just a phrase he heard passed around almost used in irony cases and it never seemed applicable or even noticeable but right now it was the perfect title to this new chapter, if not novel about his life. 'Rock Bottom' written by Matt Jeevas, a story of clouded memories and the slow destruction of himself, a true story. It was easier to imagine it like that, just a book collecting dust on a shelf in the forgotten areas of a library or even in the hands of an individual, fully engrossed and sweaty, lost in the action and emotion behind the paperback. The author just a shadow, a shadow ripped from its previous being and the readers, adrenaline starved sadists with desperation and fear on their minds. He wished it was a fiction but it wasn't, just an autobiography written by himself and him alone because no one else would help. A story wrote alone, lived alone and finished alone.

Not that anyone would read it, they would just pick it up and read the blurb putting it down and look for an escapism because nobody wanted to read the story of a sad boy taken away to live in a broken world with an even sadder more broken boy as his jailer.

Because Matt wasn't supposed to be sad, he wasn't supposed be angry at the world and he most definitely wasn't supposed to be staring at his reflection in a strip club with warm tears leaking down his hollow cheeks.

In the storybooks of once upon a time and princesses and princes it always ended with the same bittersweet happily ever after but this wasn't a storybook, there was no hero and there was no happily ever after, just villains and an ending matching it's truth, slow and destructive with promises of the end in every imaginable way.

.

Mello was cold. He had been sitting with a lack of purpose or without initial intent by the unused window in the central area of the base. The base's location wasn't exactly renowned for its attractive landscapes and Mello was sure that even if it was not a single soul would appreciate it. Mello supposed that was why he was sitting there but truthfully he knew it was a decision he had made spontaneously, merely estimating that he could sit for some unknown reason to think about unknown things because his subconscious had taken lead and Mello's body was transported by the sheer will to think.

But Mello was alone and for that he was thankful.

Mello often thought about a number of things, all if not most centring around his work and would mostly entail planning certain raids or analysing certain characters, always methodical things that held a purpose and a clear goal.

But now he thought of different things. Things about himself, about who he used to be but not in full intensity, simply dipping into the darky depths of his past just to see if it was still as cold and still as deep. Things about his current life, about his job and his supposed non-existent morality and how things all seemed black or white with the odd cloud of grey holding the promise of downfall. And things about Matt, like the copper strands of his hair, the deep emerald of his big eyes and the pink shade of his lips when they pulled into a short lasting smile and the fact that everything he associated with Matt was the highest form of colour.

Black and white was now no longer a thing as for the first time ever Mello's emotions were a spectrum of uncertainty.

"What are you thinking about?" called a voice, one that Mello first perceived to be his own but the dark baritone grumble was not one he had grown comfortable with. The words weren't full of wonder or genuine concern just a coy tease that seemed to have been spoken just for the sake of speaking.

Sure enough there was Rod, standing on strong stable legs with a bottle of beer tightly gripped in his hand.

Mello willed to be alone once more but knowing his previous experiences showed that he would not get off so lightly. So Mello sighed and dismissed his question with an equally disinterested tone, "Nothing of interest to you."

Rod didn't leave or even so much as shuffle at the words, simply remaining as the looming unwanted statue with mischievous intent on his mind. "You've really changed in the last few days," He commented despite his opinion not been asked for. The words stood to prod and poke at Mello's annoyance, like Mello was a mongrel in a strongly constructed cage just out of reach to teach the prodding finger a lesson.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mello barked his anger swelling in his stomach until it felt like an irritated ulcer in his stomach, starving to grow until it turned into a deadly unstoppable pain.

Rod meets his glare with an absent look, a dark smirk twisting the corners of his mouth, "It's just that you seem to be spending a lot of time with the bitch."

Mello's face became the picture of confusion until his brain followed the most obvious trail causing his eyes to narrow and his voice to tighten, "Who? Matt?" Mello's voice sounded testy, as if he wanted Rod to nod as answer.

"I don't give a shit about his name and neither should you; he's just a pretty face," Rod concluded bringing the bottle to his mouth to take a long glug. His lips didn't leave the bottle causing his breath to ricochet off the glass in the form of a diminuendo echo.

Mello thought long and hard at Rod's words despite trying not to. In the theory of the underworld Rod was right, Matt was a possession and Mello was the owner but now self-proclaimed rules of wickedness had no deeper meaning than their own selfish view. Now Matt was something else, a thing that Mello couldn't categorize for now but he didn't need to because Matt could be _just_ Matt, even though there was nothing 'just' about him. Things could just exist, not that Matt was one of them, no Mello was sure Matt was something else altogether. But how could he sum it up for Rod, how could he include Matt's purity and wholeness. Thought trails met dead ends causing the simple shallow answer to emerge that gave no justice to the red headed enigma, "He's just a kid."

Rod characteristically laughed at the words, "He's about your age and I do hope the mighty Mello isn't saying he's just a little kiddie," his words were full of taunt, the last part narrated in a bittersweet baby voice.

Anger was led away by confusion, teased out of Mello's system causing him to both wonder why it happened and how it happened. For a moment all he saw was red, but not the red flash of anger as he was possessed by his ever fuelled fury, just red, like the shine of Matt's hair when he would turn away from the light. He shouldn't think of Matt, Matt should never of met him and he wished, _oh god_ how he wished he hadn't but for some twisted unknown reason fate had pushed them together. Mello didn't want him to stay. Mello didn't want to see him again. But he just wanted to know, for payback from the universe and its ill neglect towards him, that Matt was okay and that somewhere out there in the shit heap of it all Matt could smile, Matt could laugh… Matt could love.

The feeling swelled up inside until it crippled his breathing. Was it hope? Was it reason?

Mello's eyes cleared and he soon understood where he really was. He looked at Rod expressionless, "No, it's different he's… innocent," Mello concluded his tone void of attention.

"So what, you're just trying to befriend him so you can fuck him?" Rod questioned once more, throwing his empty beer bottle to the floor causing a crash that silenced all other thoughts.

Mello winced, "No. I just…"

"Just like the rest of us?" Rod finished now standing with no prop to busy himself with causing all his attention to settle on Mello.

The mere thought of association brought back the anger so Mello turned, teeth bared and growling, "Go fuck yourself."

Rod met his eyes with such a humoured expression that Mello immediately regretted giving him the satisfaction, "No thanks, I have all the fucks I need, I'll be very glad to add little red to my collection." And he moved towards the door, discarding the last words in Mello's direction.

The image was clear, Matt crying for help and Rod… _touching_ him and- It hurt. It physically hurt. He could see it and hear the screams and that god awful laugh and it hurt. It was an unattainable ever-present pain of dread because every tiny scrap of good was gone, ripped out at the roots so nothing could possibly grow their again. It wasn't fair. For just _one_ wish to come true, was it really that much to ask? Didn't he deserve it? Mello knew all hope was lost for him and yes he guessed that maybe he didn't deserve it but surely Matt did.

For the first time in forever Mello prayed, he prayed for Matt. He swore his oath officially, a given sacrifice on line and he spoke aloud the same end to that prayer, "Over my dead body," Mello growled.

Rod just laughed once more, "That can be arranged." And then he exited leaving nothing but the broken glass and echoing words in Mello's head.

.

The club was alive once more. The steady flow of suspicious business men with perverted intentions was reliable and modal. Mello even spotted a familiar face here and there but they were not exactly the crowd in which you would retell old war stories over a glass of whiskey, but more the type that you would watch with extreme caution knowing very well the other may have malicious intent on their mind. Even a few unknown faces recognised Mello but it wasn't exactly surprising as he knew he was rather infamous in the underworld and places like strip clubs were where people like him thrived, like bacteria, parasites.

The bouncer was to further occupied by the rambunctious crowd to even spare him a glance so he slipped through with ease and the few people that saw him stayed silent, knowing better than to comment.

For a moment Mello saw Matt holding open the door like he had done this morning, his height small and slight leaning on the door to support himself and the grin on his face the perfect picture. Matt really was beautiful. Mello found himself smiling and for once allowed it to stay for a moment, enjoying the tight alien pull at his cheeks.

But Matt wasn't there for now so he opened it by himself, noticing how chilling the handle was on his lone hand.

The smell of drink assaulted his nose upon entering along with the deafening blasts of music and the unsightly scene of provocative dancing. One girl caught his eye through the darkness, her smile was sadistic and cruel almost and Mello hoped the facial expression he shared with her was enough to make her back away. She laughed or what he assumed was her before she disappeared with a grin and a beckoning gesture. Mello wondered if she genuinely thought he'd follow her of if she was playing him along in her own twisted fantasy of reality. But the shadows had already claimed her and Mello's interests were further occupied.

He moved towards the bar, swerving with bodies movements as he drifted from the shadows fluidly. The crowds had parted for him so he leaned across the bar to catch the bartender's attention.

"Have you seen Matt?" Mello shouted over the quick notes of the music and conversations of the drunken crowd.

The bartender looked at him with slight recognition before shaking his head.

Mello sighed and leaned closer, "Are you sure? I just need to know where he is."

The man shook his head once more adding on an explanation this time, "I'm sorry, never heard of a 'Matt'."

"You must have seen him," Mello pleaded, "He's short, got red hair like really red hair…" His sentence fell short by the man's absent dismissal. "He came with me this morning, you'd remember him, he's… beautiful."

The man seemed to nod in remembrance, at which statement Mello wasn't sure, "Oh, yeah I remember. I think he's in back room number four, that's where Paige was taking him I think."

"Thank you," Mello uttered before he moved from the neon lights of the bar.

The room was easy enough to find due the fact it lacked the dramatic decoration of all the other rooms, they sat apart coloured in a monotone white wash and the bright lights from the stage didn't quite reach the doors. A security guard stood next to door number four but he too was too entranced in the hypnotic sway of barley covered bodies to notice Mello, which partly made him sieve because he assumed anyone with a quiet step could also sneak in. At that very thought Mello opened the door, quietly stepping inside.

Upon entrance Mello recognised another fast paced song blasting through the speakers but he could also hear sweaty hands slipping and stumbling along with a voice he recognised as Paige's.

"That's it sweetie, you nearly had it," Paige encouraged and Mello saw the scene lay out before him, a fallen Matt gasping for air on the small stage and Paige grasping the second pole.

"I didn't nearly have it, I _can't_ do it," Matt moaned, his sweaty forehead meeting the cool chill of the pole.

It was only then that Mello began to notice Matt's new outfit. At the very least he could say it looked uncomfortable but then Matt shifted from his fallen position and the sheer amount of skin he could see made him blush. Matt had never looked so innocent yet… sultry before. The loose material of the shirt hung off his tiny frame pointlessly revealing both shoulders but the tiny shorts hugged every part of his _covered_ body fiercely but due to its inappropriate length the majority of Matt's backside was revealed along with his skinny legs. Mello felt disgusted to be watching and observing him so intently but for some unknown reason, he couldn't look away.

"There's no such thing as can't," Paige corrected trotting over to Matt and pulling him up.

"Trust me, there is. Just admit that this is a hopeless case," Matt complained again, trying to sink back to the floor but Paige's strength kept him vertical.

"You're overreacting, you just need to move your hips more," She instructed placing her hands on his hips and gripping them tightly.

"I don't want to, it makes me feel like an idiot," He insisted, his hand moving the hair that had stuck to the sweat.

"You don't look like an idiot, you look sexy so-" Paige cut off when she noticed Mello in the shadows, "Mello!"

"Hey," Mello greeted awkwardly, stepping out of the darkness into the centre of the room.

At the mention of Mello's name Matt looked up with tired green eyes. As soon as Mello emerged from the darkness he blushed in an almost guilty fashion and tugged his oversized shirt past his behind and shuffled from foot to foot. He stares for what feels like an eternity and his mouth opens occasionally, but all Matt speaks is silence.

Mello rotates to stare officially at Matt to direct a casual question with a very uncomfortable smile, "Um… How's the training going?"

Matt's stare continues along with his silence but his eyes are pleading as they latch on to Mello's.

The silence becomes stiff and the air thickens so Paige chooses to cut through it with an enthusiastic tone, "Alight, needs a bit of work but he'll do fine."

The words are spoken to fill the silence but none of them are listening. It's just for politeness, necessities, and to make it seem like they're all glad to be here because the sinking feeling of dread and choking tears are present in all of them.

The sound of the door slamming is heard by all ears but no one moves or reacts, the deafening emotion is far too greedy.

"Paige! I need you up front, why the fuck are you back here?" Lyon rages in the backdrop and Paige turns to him. "Go!" He orders.

"I was just training Matt for-" She excuses knowing it's pointless but again no harm could come of voicing up now and again.

"Now!" He repeats as expected and Paige's head droops in an almost apologetic bow.

"Okay," She breathes and to hide up her fear she smiles widely and turns to Matt, "Don't worry sweetie you'll be alright. You've got better moves than half these girls." And then she hugs him tightly her chest shaking as she does and Matt can sense all her pain so he hugs her back just as tight.

She leaves with a smile, a true one, sad and small.

Matt watches her go and as soon as the quiet click of the door begins to echo, he moves his gaze down to Mello, barley sparing Lyon a confused glance.

The silence returns until, "Tomorrow. He starts tomorrow."

"No you said he could get-" Mello protests glaring at him with full intensity.

And Matt joins in, "But I can't-"

"Shut up!" Lyon silences with a shout, "I don't give a shit. This is my club so I make the rules." Mello thinks he sounds like a petty child playing pretend, trying to demand respect because he hasn't earned it. Lyon turns to Mello with a demanding finger at Matt, "He's wasting my fucking time and money. If you think I'm going to let him be a distraction to all the other dancers here then you've lost your fucking mind. The deal was you give me control of his 'work' and I'll do just that."

Mello advances on Lyon, "You don't control his anything; you just handle the fucking paperwork!" His voice is chilled with frustration and his eyes curdle with darkness causing Matt wince at the words.

Lyon matches Mello's proximity and the glare levelly until Lyon turns away with a childish scowl, "I made you a deal Mello. Now don't get me wrong-" He laughs as he turns to Matt, focussing on the part of Matt's body that the boy so desperately tries to cover with his hands, "he is a very pretty little thing and looks very good in tiny little shorts but he could very well fuck everything up. He's the first boy that's worked here and I have no way in knowing if it'll work or not. So don't talk to me about are fucking deal because he is now this clubs property."

Matt can see it, the terrifying coldness taking control of Mello's body stilling him visually but Matt knows that Mello and reason are no longer present in his eyes, "He's not your property."

And from the looks of it, Lyon can see it too. "Tomorrow," He dismisses moving towards the door in an attempt to flee himself from Mello's anger, the kind of anger that is exaggerated over tales but that just makes it seem all that more wrathful in person.

Mello's anger is about to peek and Matt knows that once he starts Mello won't be able to stop. The look in Mello's eye was so terrifying and unforgiving but if you knew what you could see, like Matt knew from experience, you could see the fear and self-loathing so deep within that it cowered behind his pupils in their shadows, the only place it knew how.

But Matt wouldn't let that happen, "No, wait! Please, I'll terrible at dancing. I get what you're saying about the money but I won't be ready tomorrow. Please just one more day of training, I'm trying, I really am."

Lyon turned and settled on Matt's face. Matt remembered what Mello had said about looking innocent and to be honest Mello wasn't exactly the first to pick up on it but right now it seemed he had the advantage. Lyon raised his eyebrows and licked his lips, "Tomorrow. I'll give you _one_ more practise before Paige's shift tomorrow. You're still dancing tomorrow, I don't care how shit you are."

Matt knew it wasn't the ideal conclusion but he settled for it knowing that it could be a lot worse. And to continue his grateful role he added with a bow, "Thank you," silently revelling at how smug Lyon looked because of it.

But it still seemed that the man was not quite satisfied with his level of respect so he continued, "And wear something smaller, if you can't dance you've got to get your money from other means." The thought made Matt gag but he nodded in spite of himself. However, it seemed Lyon was not yet ready to give up his dictatorship, "You better step up our fucking game sweetheart because I promise you this: if you fuck me around or don't do what you're supposed to do then there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?"

And Matt continued his nod, his head moving with such speed that he became lightheaded.

With his final declaration Lyon left.

As soon as the door signalled his departure Mello moved to the foot of the stage, "Don't listen to him. Don't listen to a word he says. He won't hurt you I swear, he's all talk. I won't let that happen." Matt smiled for a moment until it faded with a frown backed up with small shuffles. Mello knew he wasn't very sensitive but he wanted to comfort him but his experiences weren't overwhelming so he settled with a, "Are you okay?"

Matt looked up sheepishly and parted his pink lips and muttered a very unconvincing, "…I'm fine."

Mello just sighed. "You'll be okay. I promise nothing bad will happen to you, not now and not ever again."

And that was all Matt needed, just the comfort of Mello's presence despite how inconvenient and twisted it was. So Matt jumped from the stage into Mello's arms and he wanted to smile at how still and stiff Mello became but wanted to cry at how new and unconventional it felt. And Matt felt that he was being selfish by asking for more words and the insurance of Mello's body, "You swear on your life?"

Mello tightened his arms around Matt, cutting off his hearing of the world around him so all he could hear was the grumble of words in his chest, "I swear on my life."

* * *

**Current debt: £4,999,990**

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the OC but I hope you understand why I put her there but don't you worry your pretty little head about it because I dislike OC's just as much as the next person so don't worry about her staying around, but she may make an appearance here and there. Thank you for sticking through with this story and **_**very**_** long and very late chapter, I'd love to hear your feedback!**


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